Black Ice & Steel
by your rolling wheels
Summary: She was plain and uninspiring, this was true. But beyond that, she was something precious to the high and mighty vampire coven of the Olympic area. When James’ plans switch mid-execution, how will things end? Set during Twilight – James & Bella.


**TITLE:  
**BLACK ICE & STEEL

**RATING: **  
T for TEEN (language, situations, etc.)

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**  
As one can probably guess, this takes place during Twilight, when James had lured Bella into his trap. I warn you, this is not the typical James/Bella fluff that is floating around at the moment. For the moment, James is… Well, he's definitely himself. From Bella's POV, for the moment. Please read and rate, but most importantly, enjoy!

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**BLACK ICE & STEEL – CHAPTER ONE**

"NEW ENDEAVORS"

I had left with the impression that I would be serving a noble cause, dying in the place of my mother, becoming a sacrifice in hopes that safety would find she and Edward, not to mention all the Cullens and everyone else I'd come to regard as my family. I'd left in hopes that my life, my singular, insignificant human life, might be enough to appease Him and simply allow everyone else off the hook. The idea that things could end so simply was shattered the moment I'd walked into the ballet studio, the moment I realized that my mother was not, and had never been, in the presence of the psychopathic vampire I now found myself entirely alone with.

Instead of regret, instead of that logical emotion, I was filled with peace. Even as James, a sadistic pillar of marble with a thirst for my blood, stalked the shadows and appeared in every square inch of the mirrored walls around me, I could not drive myself any closer to being remorseful over my decision. I would die, of this I was certain, but Edward and his family would be safe from James and his coven, as my mother and father would be. Everyone else, aside from myself, would be able to continue on without living in any fear of the blonde vampire who's face reflected back at me from the mirror, at that very second.

He'd explained how he'd drawn me there, with what relative ease he'd lured me into his trap. He'd even introduced me politely to the camcorder he'd lifted from my home. The one thing he had not addressed was what came next, what the next part of his plan entailed. It may have been morbid curiosity finally catching up to me, but it was not until the moments in the ballet studio began ticking by that I had ever given much thought to how it was I would die. It was easy to see that there were a number of ways which might intrigue my captor, whose sadistic streak was by no means cleverly camouflaged.

Before I had time to register his presence, he was standing mere inches before me, the tower of stark white marble glowering down at me with the same sinister smile playing on his lips. He was close enough for me to note the distinct way that he smelled – of salt, and turned dirt. "The game," he whispered, his rough voice startling clear in the large empty room, "has just become slightly more interesting."

I hadn't the slightest idea what he meant by those words, but I didn't need to understand their meaning to feel the chill that crept up my spine at hearing them. The game he was playing was a game of torture, of seeing how hard my heart could race against my ribcage before it flat lined, how long it would take Edward to arrive and attempt to save the day. How that game could possibly interest James anymore was completely beyond my realm of reasoning, and a feeling of dread began to grow in my chest. He moved closer and I tumbled back until I was met with the cold, hard surface of the mirrored wall. He only chuckled and continued to advance, the dark grin still playing on his lips.

"This entire process would be that much more enjoyable if you'd but play along," he instructed, his tone the same sickeningly polite hum it had been since first he'd begun speaking. Instinctively when his cool breath blew over my cheek, I shirked away from it, violently turning in the other direction despite the fact that his breath, much like Edward's smelled slightly of mint. A low growl followed my kneejerk reaction, and before I could blink, my chin was crushed in the grasp of his vice-like palm, so tightly that I was sure my bones were barely keeping up their resistance.

He held my chin in such a way that it forced me to look directly into his face, his blood red eyes boring into mine as his upper lip curled back to reveal two lines of perfectly straight, dangerous teeth. "I will not tolerate this, this lack of participation. We want Edward to be thoroughly convinced, do we not?" He forced my head to nod, smiling sarcastically as though he was pleased.

"Very good. Then you'll be quite excited about the new direction we're taking our little film in. It's a refreshing take on this stale set up, I'm sure you'll agree," eh continued, seemingly only speaking for the sheer pleasure of hearing himself talk. Though my eyes were trained on him by force, even he had to see that my mind was millions of miles outside the realm of the conversation at hand. I had sometime ago had my fill of the mocking civility and metaphors he seemed so keen on using in his speaking. No matter how much he spoke, I had vowed to myself that I would listen very minimally.

But I couldn't just wait forever. Edward would be there eventually and… No, I couldn't allow him to be in danger. I had to what was possible to keep him out of what was most certainly to happen, next. I gathered my courage and willed my dry mouth to speak.

"J-Just do it," I ordered weakly, my small voice not carrying nearly the way his had as I pleaded with him, attempting to seem strong in my convictions. "Just get it over with."

He did not just chuckle in response to my orders, but outright laughed, the gravelly noise echoing hauntingly off the walls, coming to an abrupt halt at the precise moment I felt the back of my head connect with the mirror behind in with a sickening crack. I had no time to form any response, lights blooming behind my eyelids at the same time as the pain began to register in the back of my head. It was an impossible sensory overload, the pain failing to truly sink in, given the situation I was already placed in. Pain was hardly something to concern oneself with when one's life was slipping ever closer to being ended.

I hardly even noticed the metallic, salt and rust smell of blood as the back of my head began to ooze the liquid. Of course, by the time I'd cataloged the small fact that I was bleeding, James had already detected the scent and was then attempting to hold himself back from it, for whatever reason. I merely looked up at him, a dizzy lump of fragile human flesh and bones from the wooden floor of the studio. He crouched down and jerked my arm until I slumped into a position somewhat at eye level with him, enough so to see that his eyes were a completely obscured obsidian color, his lip twitching at the same rate at which his nostrils flared. That smug, sinister grin peeled across his lips again, and he chuckled.

"I'll pretend, for continuity's sake, that you politely expressed interest in my newly decided course of action," he announced, once again using a tone of voice that nearly led me to believe that he believed he was talking to an audience, that each and every one of his reflections were interested in what the real version of themselves had to say. His hold on my wrist tightened considerably, causing me to wince, as he continued to speak of his new plan. "I've decided that, no matter how well chosen my stage was, a single location is really not in our best interest. I need a larger stage to fully explore my options, and Forks alone will never do," he explained, obviously every bit convinced of his words as he made himself out to be. He truly believed that everything was a game, one small means to the greater good of the end, that it was all a show.

"I think it's time we give the mind reader a bit of interaction. Perhaps take our show on the traveling circuit. It would be so much more interesting for Edward that way, now wouldn't you agree?" he asked, tilting his head curiously. I couldn't help what happened next, the misstep simply my rational reaction, at that moment. I summoned up what wetness my mouth could provide and, to put it in a most unladylike manner, I hocked back before spitting directly into the face of my captor for simply mentioning the name of my beloved.

James seemed perplexed for a moment, caught off guard by the action, though not at all for long. A furious growl escaped his lips as he grabbed a handful of my hair, smashing my head against the cold glass of the mirror, once again. His snarl was the last thing my eyes took in as the edges of everything darkened; I was sure, this time, that he had hit my head hard enough for it to be the end. Between the noise and the darkness, I had no reason to believe otherwise, especially when all went quiet.

There was nothing but night.


End file.
